


for that old feeling is still in my heart

by weeniewife



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Other, Post-Azure Moon, Reincarnation, Slow Build, They/Them Pronouns for My Unit | Byleth, claude is asking too many questions, just kiss already ffs, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25460485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniewife/pseuds/weeniewife
Summary: It's about time for Claude to come clean about his feelings for his odd friend. He knows in his heart that Byleth is keeping secrets - and heaven knows exactly how well he does with things like that. They'd been casually dating for quite a while and he had given up on asking, but before he can let himself fall for them......he needs to know why it feels like he's falling BACK into love.[everyone's in the same apartment complex au]
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 22
Collections: apartment au!





	for that old feeling is still in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Basically an AU where everyone is reincarnated and living in the same apartment complex!  
> And we do mean everybody, ladies and gents. Don't think there's too much to explain other than maybe not EVERYONE was reincarnated...

Everything had to be at the _very least_ somewhat perfect.

As per usual, Claude had everything down to a science. It had been a full month of sitting down and talking, getting lost in the city… then going back to his apartment to stare at the ceiling wistfully, hand over his heart like some forlorn lover waiting for their beloved to return.

It was uncharacteristic of him to allow a single person to occupy his thoughts so, but he couldn’t shake it.

Every time he thought he had them figured out, they did something off the wall and inexplicable that he’d have to wad up and toss out whatever mental notes he might’ve scribbled down in a panicked attempt to replace it. And then start with something completely new. He didn’t know what the heck was going through their mind at any time, and though that might have made him uneasy if it were anyone else… Byleth was far too fascinating for him to categorize them with anyone else in the world. His inability to pin them down was anything but a problem.

The fact that he somehow knew their name without ever being introduced hadn’t been lost on him, though a part of him felt as though he wasn’t supposed to call them that at all. Odd. Their name was clear in his mind. But didn’t taste right on his tongue.

Even more fascinating was that he was not the only one in the building to feel that way. When they first moved in it was like they had always been there. There was never any kind of party in which Byleth had introduced themself. No announcement that they were moving in of any kind, besides Mercedes’ routine of welcoming the newcomer with a basket of treats. (When she was told there was someone new, of course.)

It wasn’t too strange at first, he thought, since this seemed to be a place for people that lived in the public eye to escape. That had been his first guess as to why everyone had been approached and given the opportunity to live in the area at all, as it were. Maybe they were famous back in the day and everyone had forgotten their name. But when searching, even when flipping through old case files, through the oldest records he could get his hands on… nothing with the name “Byleth Eisner” or even just someone with that first or last name showed up at _all._ To be fair, somehow Fodlan was void of major history or any sort of records predating the year 1200. But not even that _surname._ That was enough to warrant a million red flags and pique his curiosity - he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Sure the name was unique, but not a _single_ person in history? That was so obviously stained with someone’s hands in the way and he had to know.

When the entire building decided to put on its little summer get-together complete with a cookout and one incredibly enthusiastic game of volleyball, he’d sat idly by trying to lightly grill Byleth for answers. Who was still, though it was so hot out, in a full-sleeved shirt gripping at it as though trying to hide their hands. Even both Marianne and Bernadetta had decided upon modest bathing suits when tugged outside into the party, so Byleth yet again stuck out like a sore thumb.

Instead of getting answers from them, somehow, he found himself asking them on a date and they were able to wiggle free without letting him squeeze so much as a minor detail or even the crack of a smile out of them.

At first Claude assumed Byleth was like Dedue, meaning their expressions were merely hard to catch. But he was still able to notice the tug on the big guy’s lips as people praised the food. Aaand not to mention the exasperated, furrowed brow when someone gave Dimitri alcohol and he had to be hauled away by Sylvain - who was obviously-seasoned in acting at that point. Everything seemed a little too okay despite everyone knowing that Dimitri had some sort of past they were covering up.

Claude _shouldn’t_ know, but he did - alcohol wasn’t a good thing to mix with the medication the man must’ve been on.

Byleth, on the other hand, their face was _stone_. The only thing he’d seen in the beginning was a quick microexpression that he could only describe as shock when they officially met in the hallway. Which, again, was puzzling in and of itself.

How he asked them on a date was beyond him - he was much more the ‘stay in with his best friend and watch shitty cop dramas’ type as he talked about nothing and she did the same. Sure, he had dates here and there, but that almost always ended in being paranoid that they’d want too much information out of him or that they would get too close.

Byleth was… not like the others. He knew that much instantly. The first date they merely sat at a cafe, where they’d decided on tea… Claude hadn’t ever tried the kind they’d asked for, but even the smell brought him some sort of weird nostalgia. Like they already knew his favorite. Like they’d done this before somehow. And it felt like he could almost remember it happening before, but the memory was not his own. It was something he hadn’t yet unlocked so he kept scratching at the surface.

They knew how to get him to talk but he never got a _thing_ out of them. He started asking them out again and again, desperate to uncover something new but ended up satisfied just with their company.

It started out desperate, but now it was different. Claude had stopped trying to talk them in circles - trying to get them to slip up and let something out. It had proven successful a time or two with even more confusing results, so he decided on taking it a day at a time. Definitely some questions here and there, but it was no longer focused on his need to uncover some weird secret that he felt would magically answer all of his questions. They had to be the key that would unlock everything.

When he commented on their steel gaze, _‘i was even worse at emoting before.’_

When he asked their age, _‘i feel twenty-seven, maybe?’_

When he brought up not being from where they were living now, Byleth had hinted that they knew exactly what he was going to say.

He hypothesized momentarily that they were from another region. Much like those that were emerging to say that they didn’t have the same sort of technology from the places they hailed, or like the laguz that had emerged that hadn’t ever been documented previously, which would have been a _pretty big fucking oversight_ if they hadn’t just come into contact with them.

Something weird had to have happened to their world without their knowledge. Either this was some elaborate prank being pulled on those around him, actual medieval people were starting to show up from different dimensions or some shit, or he was finally going crazy. He found the last idea itself to be pretty plausible, but there was no denying what he’d seen. The cat-man upstairs was pretty open about himself and had even let Claude pet him a time or two. So, yeah, he probably was losing it.

But that wasn’t what was immediately important, he’d worry about his declining mental health later. Pretty juvenile to think it but his date seemed a little more important at the moment.

The itinerary for the night was:

\- Romantic dinner, for once really driving it home that they were dating at this point, not only on casual dates. Candles, glasses of wine, the works. Surely they understood at this point what his intentions were but he’d learned that he couldn’t be too careful with hints. It had been… he didn’t want to think about how he knew specifically how long they’d been doing this, but Claude had brought it up to Hilda after a month. And that was a while ago. So… it was time to “make it official.”

\- Walk them home, as he’d been doing. He could drive but they seemed uneasy in the times he had picked them up or brought them along. He also knew that Byleth themself couldn’t drive, either - he’d overthink that into oblivion later. Definitely a good hint to back up the ‘different region’ hypothesis.

\- Get caught in the rain. There was a pretty good chance for it even if the sky didn’t look too angry yet. Tracking the radar and looking up times when they came home on previous dates gave him about a 40% chance for it to happen right as they got back to the complex… where he could have a dramatic confession while lightly soaked and handsomely disheveled. If they missed the rain, so be it, but he could bet that it would work out. Maybe he’d even drag out the walk to make it happen.

\- Dramatic first kiss in the rain? Now, he wasn’t shy - and he wasn’t a prude or anything. Still, Claude wasn’t any good at actually opening up or telling anyone even the slightest bit of the whole truth… so he was taking it slow. For most, it would be painful, borderline agonizingly slow. A man in his mid-twenties was taking the same pace as someone with their first sweetheart next to the swingset, and he was aware that it probably wasn’t what everyone in the world would want.

But Byleth was enigmatic just as he was, the fact it wasn’t a problem at all proved to be one of the best things about them. They seemed to understand that it wasn’t a want but a need to keep them at arm’s length, despite his obvious desire to keep them closer. And their understanding made it that much more difficult.

There must be some other reason why they wanted to be so close to him. Hilda suggested one of the very few times he’d brought up this new relationship that they were in love… but that couldn’t be all it was. A month or so of just looking into each other’s eyes and walking them home wasn’t enough to warrant that kind of patience.

Could it?

He knew his paranoia would bite him in the ass eventually and to enjoy them while they wanted to be there. Though something about them felt… more important than even being his romantic partner. Or, future romantic partner.

Maybe it was the way they held their fork full-fisted, which was weird and somehow endearing. Or the way they seemed completely unbothered by the portions of the places he’d learned he had to look for, and how they could pack enough away that even Raphael would be impressed. Maybe it was the way he stayed up some nights thinking of how they’d react to something he’d say, but when he said it to them they’d react in a wholly different way.

Maybe it was the way they were beginning to smile at him, it made him feel some weird indescribable emotion every time. Like he somehow knew the struggle they’d faced, how difficult it was for them to overcome their anxieties to open up themselves rather than to just do it normally. There was some other factor he couldn’t grasp, but at the same time, he knew.

Claude heard a soft chuckle under their breath at dinner this time, and his heart thundered enough for him to face the facts. He didn’t know how, or why, or where they came from, or if the both of them were operating under false names - but he was so head over heels that there was no coming back up. It didn’t _matter_ where they came from. He’d beg for the information, he knew it had to be some crazy possibility he wasn’t thinking of. Because they would always surprise him.

It wasn't even the light infatuation that should have gripped him, the emotions that swirled within him when Byleth smiled felt almost as though he was looking at a rekindled flame. Like he was reconnecting with a friend that he’d pushed too far into his life somewhere in the past.

And with the rush of falling in love or perhaps the _terror_ of what felt like falling _back_ into love, came a sorrow Claude couldn’t positive-vibe himself out of. Would they get too close before he was ready? Would they hate him for his secrets? Would they open up to him at all, or would they keep just as guarded and have everything fall down around them?

“Look as hard as you want, you’ll never figure out what I’m scheming.”

Byleth’s now a little-too-close stare snapped Claude out of his odd nostalgia spiral and he flashed a smile at them despite not really feeling all that smiley at the moment. Somehow they could tell, he could feel it - but they backed away and said nothing. Byleth smiled back, a little lopsided but it might’ve made it just that much more adorable.

“Say, why don’t we go for a walk? We can take the scenic route home.”

They nodded once, and that was that. Everything was paid for and they were out the door. The clouds were rolling in quickly as they began to walk, but neither of them paid it any mind. As he planned.

He wasn’t planning, however, for them to accept when he finally reached out and took their hand. Byleth had always covered them, either with gloves or with their sleeves. Claude had noticed tiny scars both on their palms and some on their knuckles, as though their squeezing nails into their palms was something they’d always done and as if they’d gotten into some crazy fistfights. Claude wasn’t expecting them to let him bring it up to his lips for a tiny kiss as they walked, chatting about nothing.

“I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to say it, but maybe being as forward as possible is the best strategy.” Claude looked up, chuckling softly to himself when he felt the first drop of rain on his face. Alright, going to need to speed it up a little. Those clouds looked angrier than he was expecting them to. “At first, I approached you to get something out of you. But now… I think all I wanted was to get closer to you.”

“You’re curious, and that’s okay. You always will be.” Byleth stopped walking to listen to him, clenching their fists and squeezing to hold back too much. Goddess, it would be so nice to explain to the one person who had tried to come closer, who this time was pursuing them so desperately. It was terrifying - they simultaneously were so happy to see the students, their friends, in a world that wasn’t being ripped apart by war… Yet the guilt of knowing that they caused everything and were responsible for a reality where they no longer knew Byleth at all ate at them. It wasn’t natural. It kept them from seeking any sort of meaningful relationship with anyone. Claude was the only exception because he had gone above and beyond - even if it was for his own gain.

They knew in their heart he ouldn’t be all selfish, however. It wasn’t possible. Not with the man they knew before. Even if Byleth had personal reasons to take issue with him, Claude was a good man at his center. He may play a wicked game that would lull people into a false sense of security to uncover information he could use as blackmail later. But he was always the one to calculate one’s personality into whatever scheme he had, hoping for the best in people and gambling on their hearts believing that people _did_ have good intentions. He was a good leader with a unique eye for detail, that was all.

“I guess what I want to say, is…” They were approaching the complex then, walking again as the rain started to pick up rather quickly. “I don’t care if you don’t tell me _everything._ You don’t ask me questions, and I appreciate it.”

“I know you’ll tell me things if you want me to know.”

“Gah, see? There you go again.” He stopped walking and Byleth continued, instinctively trying to get out of the now-steady rain. They stood under the awning, at the top step as they waited for him. “I want to be more serious about this. About us.”

“You…” Their eyes widened just a bit. “You do?”

“Yes. I do.” He would’ve preferred for them to be standing closer to him, but he couldn’t exactly fault them for not wanting to be directly beneath what was _probably_ going to follow him inside at this point. “But I do need to know one thing first.”

“I can’t promise I can say anything.”

“Byleth, there’s something about you. I’m not the only one that’s felt it, and I _know_ you’re hiding something. I can’t figure it out, and I feel like I’m never going to rest if I don’t know.” The mask he was wearing at almost all times cracked, washed away in the now-heavy rain he was having to shout over. “Why…”

“Claude, please come inside.”

“…Why does it hurt to look at you?” He choked, not recognizing his own voice behind the tears. “Why do I feel like I’ve lost you before?”

Byleth’s face twisted with some unreadable emotion, a question and an answer all at once and it drove him to fight back a sob.

“I need to know. Please.” He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down before any more of that awful vulnerability seeped through again.

“I don’t know, Claude.” He didn’t know their face all that well, he was sure he’d never read them completely, but somehow he knew that Byleth was lying.

“Please, I don’t want to play this game anymore.” He gripped at his shirt, now hating that he allowed himself to be drenched at such a time - but hey, it at least covered up the tears! As if they wouldn’t be able to tell. “What happened? What did you do? What did _I_ do?”

“You didn’t do anything. Let’s go inside, you’re drenched.”

“I’m the one who talks around things like this, damn it, I’m not going inside until you tell me what happened to us.”

“It was your decision to leave.” Byleth momentarily looked away, as if mentally scolding themself for saying something. “And it’s my decision that I’m… not ready to tell you everything.”

If Claude didn’t care for them, if he hadn’t spent so much time getting to know who they were despite knowing so little about their past - maybe he would have been angry. Maybe he would have become so frustrated that it blew up and he said something he regretted. But Claude was too old for it, too exhausted for the mental games, too caring to press them or manipulate the conversation to get what he wanted. “Alright. I’m sorry. I won’t pry anymore.”

Byleth knew that wasn’t going to be the case, but they accepted it anyway. “Please come inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

He did as he was told wordlessly, and Byleth held the door open for him as he approached underneath the awning. He was dripping, obviously exhausted, and the light that had been in his eye previously in the night had faded. He made to walk toward the steps, as his apartment was on the next floor up, but Byleth reached out to hold his wrist.

Claude stopped, slowly lifting his gaze to meet theirs again.

“You’re so wet, please, come with me. Let me help you dry off.”

“Aren’t you tired of looking at me by now, By?”

“No.”

Then Byleth was reaching out their hand for him, fully intent on bringing him back to their place. And so Claude accepted, following them into their incredibly modest apartment, void of any decoration or personalization. As if they had recently moved in and were waiting for everything to ship. As if they didn’t intend to stay, or had no idea how to -

“You’re thinking too hard again. Please sit.” Their request was so polite that Claude didn’t even realize he was sitting on a brand new recliner now, one of the only things they had in their ‘living room.’ Byleth disappeared for only a moment, coming back with a dark green towel.

With the towel in their hands, they more or less plopped it onto his head and rubbed it in a circle. Somehow it worked and felt nice anyway, so Claude closed his eyes and allowed it to happen. At least they still cared for him, even if he flashed them his soft underbelly a bit too much. Even if he exposed just how far his reach could go.

“I hope it’s alright that I’m doing this.”

“I hope it’s alright that I ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin my night. You’re hurting. I won’t say there aren’t any reasons why you should hurt.” Byleth squeezed the towel in their hands as they thought. “I’m sorry you somehow can tell. That much is my fault.”

“You’re speaking in riddles and I don’t have any context, I’ll need another hint.”

For once, Byleth decided they’d give him one. “It’s because I didn’t choose you.”

“Well, that makes the fact I’ve been trying to be with you for so long -”

They stopped drying off his hair to cover his face, effectively stunning Claude into a silence. “Before. I chose someone else. I never wanted the choice. I just wanted to be around you _all.”_

“And you’re getting what you want now?” Claude asked as Byleth took his veil away and went back to properly patting down his head.

“Yes. I like seeing you safe.”

“Safe, huh?” That seemed to strike a chord, and he quieted down. The towel ended up wrapped behind his neck, and Byleth softly, almost bashfully, yanked on it to bring him closer. “That’s what this is about.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to ruin…” There was almost a light blush, but it disappeared from their face almost immediately. “I want to be serious about us, too. But it’s a lot to take in.”

“You’re around everyone, and you’re choosing _me_ this time. Can’t say I blame you.” It didn’t completely click in his head, but it seemed to do something for _them._ They hadn’t blushed very often, but there it was again. It was such a nice color contrasted against the mint green. “But I’m also probably the most persistant, and most intuitive. And most annoying when I want to figure someting out, so this is me wishing you good luck.”

“You promise not to run if I tell you?”

“Why would I run? You quite literally have me captured, can’t you see!?” He pointed to the towel around his neck - such an incredibly powerful vice that he simply could not break away from. “I won’t leave, I promise. I’ll stay until the morning if that’s what you want.”

“You can stay as long as you like.” Their flushed cheeks were practically hot enough for Claude to _feel._ Their faces were dangerously close, and either of them could have closed the gap between them. It was a silent challenge, one both of them were waiting for the other to act upon. But neither moved past the long look into each other’s eyes.

“Byleth, can I trust _you_ with something?” Claude asked, reaching to place one of his hands on theirs as they continued to grip the cloth in their hands. They didn’t jump like he expected.

“Yes.”

“You don’t understand how strange it is that I believe you.” Claude waited several moments, as though gathering something within himself, or thinking of exactly what words to string together. “I know you said I haven’t ruined anything, but I have to call your bluff. I did, for putting my nose in places you didn’t want it to be. I’m sorry but I feel the need to know things or else I don’t _feel_ safe. And you’re obviously hiding something pretty substantial. Stopping myself is a little difficult sometimes.”

“I understand.”

He blinked at the sheer acceptance, not asking to elaborate further. He wasn’t sure if it was because they knew his life story somehow prior or because they were being kind - either way it was appreciated. “But I know I am with you. I can feel it. Do you know why that is? How someone like me, who has no reason to trust you… Bah, _I can’t wrap my head around it.”_

Byleth put their fingers through his hair instead of offering him a real answer, though the tenderness in their touch spoke enough. Odd that it felt just as intimate as they had been only moments before, and they hadn’t even kissed yet.

“It’s not long enough for a braid anymore.”

“Hasn’t been in a while. You know? You’re a terrible stalker.” Obviously that isn’t what they were, but using a word like it might have pressed a button if they were anyone else. He watched them carefully, waiting for the recoil or the denial, but there was nothing. As if it would be easier to say they were watching him than to tell him the truth. “How long have you wanted me to bring it back?”

“I thought you stopped trying to ask for answers.” Byleth blinked down at him, dropped the towel, and put their hands on either side of his face to hold him there. Their eyes met, as though they weren’t going to allow Claude to look away for a moment - though he found he couldn’t, anyway. “I _want_ to talk to you about it, but I feel it may be easier to… continue like this.”

“If you know me at all, you would be aware of how useless saying something like that is. We’re so close to a breakthrough, and - ” They squished his face in response, leaving him to just blink at them. “Ish thish shupposed to dishtract me?”

“Yes.”

“Itsh working. You’re a geniush.”

“I try.” They released him, leaving Claude to rub at his jaw despite it not hurting him whatsoever. “You’d think I was crazy.”

“There is a man with wings that lives above me who claims to be a prince of bird people. Someone in the basement that apparently was an archer in a medieval war and has _proof_ of it. Just yesterday, a bat flew into my windshield during the day while I was parked.” Claude grinned, tired as if it were an expression he defaulted to. “Are you from some sort of parallel dimension where we knew each other and came from a world with pretty bird people? Because I feel like a place like that would be a lot more interesting.”

“…Reyson is the first person with bird wings that I’ve met.” _Byleth had to think about it._

“I really love the way you worded that.” He shook his head, putting his hands through his hair to find it was still relatively damp. “First ‘with bird wings.’ Completely disregard the other part. Now you’re _trying_ to drive me nuts.”

“You’re cute when you’re thinking.” That was the only explanation they would provide, much to his dismay.

“I’m probably cuter when I’m not shivering, huh? Didn’t think that whole ‘caught in the rain’ scenario would play out like this…” Claude made a vague gesture to all of himself and patted down the front of his shirt. “I’m completely soaking this chair, I’m so sorry.”

They shook their head, and he knew it was because they didn’t care about the furniture. How could they, with so little of it?

“I feel like I could probably win a nice prize at a wet t-shirt contest, too.”

Byleth, without thinking, blurted: “You should probably just take it off.”

He stood, freeing himself of his towel prison and peeling the shirt from his torso almost immediately. Sure, if they were going to give him some sort of opening to show off after a night of exposing everything else he’d be alright with that much. Byleth kept their hands to themself, but their eyes were glued to the newly-exposed skin. “Um… would you like me to get you a shirt to change into? I have some sweaters in the closet over there.”

“That would be nice, actually. Mind if I grab one?” Claude asked, walking to it quicker than Byleth would’ve liked.

“Yes, but wait, let me -”

Claude probably could’ve passed out with the sheer number of questions that popped into his head. Mystery after mystery seemed to solve and unsolve themselves; case after case was closing itself into a casket for a final rest only to be pried open by his greedy thoughts.

The oldest painting in the country’s history was carbon-dated to over a thousand years old - not exactly ancient but pretty old nonetheless! - and torn apart leaving only a portion of its right side. Only a figure with blond hair clad in a blue cape upon a throne remained. The entire left side was ripped out like an animal was angry with it, though the face of the figure on the throne was almost deliberately censored. It was cut out entirely, as though with a fine blade. The figure was speculated to be a portrait of the King of Fodlan from roughly around that time, the one who supposedly was able to bring back the nation to being one after it had been split apart. But why would there be no other records, no names, no pictures of such a great king’s face? It had baffled historians and mystery-lovers like Claude for years. 

And he was undoubtedly staring at the original, hidden haphazardly in a closet. Something in his gut told him it had to be - from the recognizable figures in the painting itself and the faded stains at the bottom that seemed to splash toward the top. A blood splatter from someone who must have been directly beneath it. Macabre, but understandable why someone would want to keep it that way - if they tried to wash a bloodstain away now, they’d likely ruin a major part of history. One of the oldest pieces yet, that hadn’t been destroyed by someone wishing to eliminate the past.

To the right in the painting was undeniably the King of Fodlan with a name that had been lost to time - though Claude assumed he knew his name now. The blond hair and large physique were not all too incriminating, but the single blue eye and the sharp features definitely were. Dimitri Blaiddyd, and not just someone who looked like him, was in his throne while standing next to him was what seemed to be some sort of decorated church official. Said official had light green hair with eyes to match, with an unreadable expression while Dimitri seemed to be happy to be next to them.

Claude wanted to touch it, to make sure it was real and he was truly seeing it how it was supposed to be seen. But he was frozen. Sure, it gave him the idea that maybe someone would want to tear up a painting of someone who apparently… was still alive? After all that time? Or reincarnated? Somehow? Maybe? Is that why poor Dimitri seemed to be in such a bad way? But he’d only been gone for five years according to everyone he knew, and there were photos of him as a young boy out there.

How could they know someone would be reincarnated if the painting was destroyed before Dimitri was born?

Was this Byleth, eyes blew open wide in the doorway the same as this stone-faced yet peaceful-looking person taken out of the most widely-speculated painting in their history?

How the hell could someone be alive for so long and not age a day?

Why was it with Dimitri? How was someone as unstable as him a well-loved king in any place in time or space?

If Dimitri was somehow reincarnated, did that mean the rest of them had been? Is that why people that had known each other had all been gathered in one place? Was this some sort of experiment? Was this painting planted? Was it a fake, and he was taking it too far? Were those dreams of him riding on the back of a dragon all his life something to do with this? Were his feelings for Byleth somehow connected to this history?

Why did they choose _Dimitri_ instead of _Claude?_

**Author's Note:**

> maybe I'll write a part 2, but that would DEFINITELY change the rating. We'll see!


End file.
